


The Tales of Courfeyrac the Bard

by sarahyyy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Disney AU, F/M, M/M, idek anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t do it,” Combeferre The Seagull, Enjolras’ trusted advisor, tells him upon seeing the grim determination in Enjolras’ eyes. “If you go to see Montparnasse about a potion that will give you legs, you will regret it. It’s a bad idea. Listen to me.”</p><p>Enjolras, predictably, does not listen.</p><p>(Or. Uh, the Disney AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tales of Courfeyrac the Bard

**Author's Note:**

> ...I don't even know anymore.

“You didn’t take the money?” Jehan asks, and there’s something akin to pride in his voice, something that Grantaire holds onto, and plans to treasure, because that’s all he’s going to get out of this. 

“I didn’t,” Grantaire confirms.

Jehan beams. “Does he know?”

Grantaire swallows and looks away.

“Oh, R,” Jehan says. “You have to tell him. He has to know.”

“He doesn’t,” Grantaire says. “And he will never know because you’re not going to tell him.”

“But R, you must know how he feels—”

“He doesn’t feel anything, not for me, at least.” Grantaire’s smile is almost sad when he says, “Revolutionary leaders don’t have feelings for drunken cynics.”

\---

“That was depressing,” Jehan says to Courfeyrac. “I thought we were celebrating them getting together?"

“That is in no way an accurate representation of my feelings for Enjolras,” Grantaire says with a scowl. “My life is not an Anastasia story.”

Courfeyrac shrugs. “It’d be a much better story, if you ask me. You’d make a really suave Dimitri!” 

Eponine laughs. “He would, actually.”

“Tell us another one!” Musichetta demands.

Courfeyrac rubs his hands together.

\---

Enjolras is shaking with anger. 

He’d waited his whole life for his eighteenth birthday, to ask his father to grant his birthday wish and turn him human, as most of the merfolk who weren’t happy with Poseidon’s rule of the sea did these days. 

But no, his father had taken the choice out of his hands.

 _“You are the prince of the sea_ ,” his father had said. _“There are merfolk planning to overthrow me and you need to be here to assist me. You do not get the choice of leaving this life behind and starting anew.”_

Whatever happened to _freedom_? Whatever happened to _consent_? 

“Don’t do it,” Combeferre The Seagull, Enjolras’ trusted advisor, tells him upon seeing the grim determination in Enjolras’ eyes. “If you go to see Montparnasse about a potion that will give you legs, you will regret it. It’s a bad idea. Listen to me.”

Enjolras, predictably, does not listen.

“Magic comes with a price,” Montparnasse says, when Enjolras goes to him. “If you do this, if you really want to get legs so you can see your beloved—”

“I’m doing this to protest the unfairness of our systems,” Enjolras corrects. “My father is wrong in how he rules the sea. I believe in liberty and equality for all.”

“You’re part of the Revolution,” Montparnasse says, surprised. 

Enjolras nods, fierce and proud.

“Well,” Montparnasse squints at Enjolras, as if trying to decide if Enjolras is lying to him, “then I suppose I can give you a free pass for this time. If nothing, at least it will annoy Poseidon.” He passes a bottle to Enjolras. “Drink this.”

Enjolras takes the potion from him, uncap it, says _“Long live the Republic!”_ , and downs the potion in one gulp.

He wakes up sprawled on top of a man with black curls, and eyes so blue that Enjolras finds it hard to look away.

Above them, Combeferre mutters, “I told him it was a bad idea.”

\---

Enjolras rolls his eyes. “I’m not even going to comment.”

“I don’t know,” Combeferre says, the corners of his lips already tipping up, “I think he’s got your _liberty and equality for all_ voice down to a tee.”

Courfeyrac preens. “See?” he says. “Combeferre appreciates me.”

“Traitor,” Enjolras says, glaring slightly. It’s mostly for show because Grantaire has his head on Enjolras’ lap, and is grinning up at him. 

“Do Cinderella!” Cosette says, and Courfeyrac grins at her. 

\---

“All I want,” Grantaire grumbles to Marius, “is to be able to go to the ball.”

“Open bar?” Marius guesses.

Grantaire flips him off, but before he can reply, there is a puff of smoke and a scent of spring in the air. The smoke dissipates, and in its place is—

“My name is Cosette, and I’m your fairy godmother.”

Grantaire blinks at her. “What.”

“I am here to help make your dreams come true,” Cosette explains, beaming up him, cheeks rosy with excitement. “You wanted to go to the ball, did you not?”

Actually, he wanted to go to the bar at the ball, but he cannot admit that because Marius is still there, gaping in breathless delight at the lovely creature that is Cosette.

“Yes,” he ends up saying. “But only if Marius can go too.”

“Marius,” Cosette echoes, and she sounds in awe, more so than anyone should be of a grown man gaping at her, eyes out of focus. “Alright, Marius can go too.”

And with a snap of her fingers, they were transported from Grantaire’s hovel of an apartment to the ball, looking dapper in their new suits. 

“That green looks good on you,” Marius tells Grantaire, gesturing to his vest. “It reminds me of the colour of Cosette’s dress. She was so lovely. Wasn’t she so lovely?”

Grantaire groans. “Marius, at least let me get a drink first,” he says. “I’m not drunk enough to listen to you talk about how your world changed in just one burst of light because of my fairy godmother.”

There is a scoff from behind him. “Fairy godmothers don’t exist.”

Grantaire is instantly annoyed. He may have only just met Cosette, but she was perfectly lovely, and he will not stand for anyone disavowing her existence. What if a fairy dies every time someone says they don’t believe in them? He turns behind with the intention to glare at the eavesdropper, only to come face-to-face with the most gorgeous human being he’s ever had the good fortune of seeing.

Suddenly Marius wasn’t so mock-worthy anymore.

\---

Marius and Cosette blush when Courfeyrac finishes.

“That was nice,” Marius says, grinning slightly.

“And accurate,” Courfeyrac adds, shooting a look at Enjolras. “No-one can say otherwise because I was there when Marius realized he loved Cosette and was mooning at her, just like I was there to keep the alcohol out of Grantaire’s reach when he realized he was in love with Enjolras.”

Enjolras’ grip on Grantaire’s hand tightens minutely. “I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he says softly. 

“It’s okay,” Grantaire tells him. “You figured it out afterwards.”

“Quick, Courf,” Eponine says, “start a new story before they start making out! Do Beauty and the Beast!”

\---

“I have to go save him,” Enjolras says to Combeferre, determined. “Courfeyrac is my best friend, and if the Beast has indeed captured him, I must go forth and save him.”

Combeferre sighs. “And nothing I say will change your mind?”

Enjolras shakes his head and starts his trek up the hill. 

“I will wait three days!” Combeferre calls after him. “If you are not back by then, I will gather a hunting party.”

It takes Enjolras half the afternoon to make it to the Beast’s castle. Before he can even manage to reach out to knock, the door flies open. 

“You must be Enjolras!” the teacup — _the teacup_ — says. “Courfeyrac said you’d be here. He’s told us so much about you!”

“You’re a teacup,” Enjolras says.

The teacup smiles. 

_The teacup smiles._

“My name is Jehan. We’ve been waiting a long time for you to come.”

“Why me?” Enjolras asks. 

“Well,” Jehan says, “we don’t know for sure that it’s you we’ve been waiting for. Legend speaks of The Freer of The Oppressed, and Courfeyrac said you completely fit the bill.”

Enjolras frowns at this. “Are you being oppressed? Are you being held here by your will?”

“Well, it’s really hard to go around town as a talking teacup,” Jehan says with a laugh. 

“Is the Beast responsible for this? Did he turn you into a teacup to keep you here?” Enjolras asks, angry now. 

“R?” Jehan says, sounding almost affronted. “R would never do that to us.”

Enjolras blinks. “R?”

“Grantaire,” Jehan says, as if it explains anything. At Enjolras’ look of confusion, Jehan rolls his eyes. ( _The teacup. Eyes._ ) “You know him as the Beast, even if he’s nothing like that.” 

There is a loud roar from inside the castle.

“He’s not always like that,” Jehan corrects with a cringe. “R is gentle and kind.”

“ _GET OUT! ALL OF YOU GET OUT!_ ” comes echoing from inside the castle.

“This isn’t the first impression we wanted R to give you. You probably just want to pick Courfeyrac up and not even stay for tea. You probably already hate us,” Jehan says with a sigh, and he looks so sad, so resigned, that Enjolras lets out a long exhale.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I don’t hate you. We’ll stay for tea.”

Jehan beams. “It’ll be great! I promise you won’t regret it!”

“ _MARIUS, I WILL RIP YOUR UPHOLSTERY INTO SHREDS IF YOU DON’T GET OUT!_ ”

Enjolras and Jehan sigh in unison.

\---

Bahorel laughs. “That’s exactly what R is like when he’s in The Zone,” he says.

Grantaire glares at him. “I never growled at you!”

Bahorel fixes him with a look.

“Much,” Grantaire corrects sulkily. “I just really don’t like it people interrupting me when I’m in the middle of a piece.”

“Unless that person is Enjolras,” Eponine adds. 

“And he interrupts you with sexy times,” Courfeyrac says, waggling his eyebrows. 

“That happened one time!” Grantaire defends.

“It was a very memorable one time,” Combeferre tells him, lips twitching.

“You were both ridiculously loud,” Feuilly adds. 

“Even though we were all in the living room,” Bossuet says.

“Even though _you knew_ we were all in the living room,” Joly says.

“I hate all of you,” Grantaire and Enjolras both say together, faces flaming.

“Next up,” Courfeyrac says, taking pity on them, “Mulan.” 

\---

“You’re a man,” Grantaire says, dazed. 

Enjolras blinks at him. “Yes?”

“You’re a man,” Grantaire says again.

“Of course I’m a man,” Enjolras says, brows furrowed. 

“You’re a man.” Grantaire flails his arms. “How did I not know you’re a man?”

Enjolras gapes at him. “What do you mean you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know!” Grantaire cries.

Enjolras blinks. “Is this a problem?” he demands. “Is me being a man a problem?”

“What?” Grantaire says. “No, it isn’t! It’s great that you’re a man! I love cock—”

\---

Eponine and Musichetta are wheezing in laughter as Grantaire pelts pillows at Courfeyrac, narrowly avoiding hitting Feuilly and Bahorel who are on the couch.

“But is it wrong?” Courfeyrac yells from his hiding place behind the couch. “Do you not love—”

“If I weren’t so comfortable here,” Grantaire tells Courfeyrac, “I would go punch you in the dick.”

“You really shouldn’t have your sights on someone else’s dick,” Courfeyrac admonishes. “Even if that dick belongs to me, and is obviously a more superior dick.”

Cosette and Combeferre’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter, Eponine and Musichetta are still laughing, Marius, Joly and Bossuet are shaking their heads with amusement, Grantaire is rolling his eyes so hard his eyes might just roll back into his skull for good, and Enjolras should really be annoyed at Courfeyrac for being ridiculous, but he’s happy and contented, so he says, “Tell us another one, Courfeyrac.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm here on [tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com), come say hi! :D


End file.
